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THE  MIGHT  OF  MANHATTAN 
And  Other  Poems 


Copyright,  1919 
By  JOSEPH  D.  McMANUS 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Might  of  Manhattan 1 1 

The  Call  of  the  Country 35 

Katy  East  And  Katy  West 37 

In  Metarie  Cemetery 41 

Approaching  Honolulu 43 

War's  Harvest 45 

Mob 47 

True  Expression 50 

By  the  Grave  of  Poe 51 

The  Dream-Siren 53 

The  Muse  in  Misfortune 56 

The  Regular  Soldier 57 

The  Lowest  Rank 60 

Fleeting  Thought 61 

Vernal  Morn  and  Eve 62 

Valentine's  Day 63 

Lines  to  a  Young  Lady 64 

In  Life's  Autumn 65 

Loneliness 65 

The  Libertine's  Lament 66 

Two  Prayers   67 


626105 


THE  MIGHT  OF  MANHATTAN 


T  T  ow  MIGHTY  is  the  forest  oak  whose  span 

Broad  centuries  of  steady  growth  uprear! 

But  mightier  are  the  towering  works  of  man 
Wrought  in  the  narrow  compass  of  a  year, 
And  mightiest  on  Manhattan  they  appear 

To  grace  this  wonder  isle, — this  throbbing  mart, — 
Which  drains  the  pulses  of  a  hemisphere 

To  claim  the  best  that  Wealth  and  Skill  impart 

And  lift  a  lofty  skyline,  radiant  with  Art. 


12        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


II 

A  diadem  by  day,  a  great  glow-worm 
At  night,  encanopies  the  hives  of  trade, 

Where  Mammon's  lure,  deep,  sentiment  and  firm, 
Holds  myriad  minions  fretful  and  afraid 
Lest  they  be  gripped  so  tightly,  all  plans  laid 

For  winning  or  for  gaining  fall  to  ground ; 
Yet,  over  all,  the  spirit  that  has  made 

Manhattan's  grit  and  greatness  world-renowned 

Shines  in  that   superb   skyline  where   success   is 
crowned. 


Ill 

Huge  panoramic  signboard  where,  behold! 

Proud  Progress  paints  her  own  advertisement; 
Can  Commerce  cast  herself  in  statelier  mold 

Or  Business  build  a  worthier  monument? 

The  practical  and  artistic  here  are  blent 
In  harmony :  Colossal  towers  and  domes 

Are  silhouetted  in  the  firmament 
With  splendours  that  were  once  Imperial  Rome's 
Chief  boast,  in  public  pomp  and  luxury  of  homes. 


THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN         13 


IV 

Mount,  mimic  miniature  Alps !  in  serried  files 

Of  many-storied  structures  reared  in  pride, 
Within  a  radius  of  a  dozen  miles 

Here  half-a-dozen  million  souls  reside, — 

A  medley  of  all  nations  unified 
In  mutual  uplift  to  participate : 

Consider  what  this  ever-rising  tide 
Of  compact  human  energy  will  create 
For  generations,  yet  unborn,  to  contemplate. 


Charmed  crucible !  wherein  constructive  force 
Enfetters  those  twin-tyrants,  Time  and  Space, 

With  marvels  of  invention  and  resource 
That  comfort  and  convenience  find  a  place: 
Unrivalled  is  Manhattan  in  the  race 

For  world  supremacy;  can  fate  withstand 
Intensive  Industry's  prodigious  pace 

Which  Destiny  and  Duty  both  demand,  — 

The  hope  of  humankind  when  armaments  disband. 


14        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


VI 

But  if  earth's  potentates  in  league  with  Mars 
Ordain  that  all  millennium  efforts  cease, 

That  Science  seek  her  laurel  wreaths  in  wars, 
That  arms  are  indispensable  to  peace, 
Then  let  the  nation's  armaments  increase 

And  multiply  the  arsenals  and  forts 
To  be  prepared  for  challenge  or  caprice 

Of  foreign  foes  that  plan  with  trained  cohorts 

To  levy  tribute  on  the  richest  of  seaports. 


VII 

The  ideal  state  is  where  the  people's  voice 
Is  heard  and  heeded  for  the  common  weal, 

Not  where  conscripted  troops,  the  despot's  choice, 
Implant  subservience  with  an  iron  heel, 
From  whose  oppression  there  is  no  appeal; 

To  rule  by  right  divine  is  feudal  creed 

Founded  on  myth,  by  monarchs  urged  with  zeal 

To  thwart  the  hopes  for  equal  rights  that  feed 

On  fruits  of  Liberty  and  Learning's  mingled  seed. 


THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN         15 


VIII 

More  threatening  than  the  absolute  control 
A  czar  once  wielded  is  the  power  that  craves 

Allegiance  to  a  fancied  super-soul, — 
Benevolent  autocracy, — that  paves 
A  pensioned  pathway  for  contented  slaves 

Whose  sacrifice  of  individual  rights 

To  guardians,  from  their  cradles  to  their  graves, 

Indulges  worldly  wants  and  appetites, 

But  dulls  the  flame  of  life  which  Freedom's  torch 
ignites. 

IX 

Nowhere  evince  the  tillers  of  the  soil 

More  taste  or  fitness  for  enlightenment, 

Nowhere  are  clasped  the  grimy  hands  of  toil 
For  labor's  liberation  more  intent 
Or  purposeful  than  on  this  continent, 

Where  in  its  culminating  strength  and  scope 
Manhattan  offers  proof  most  eloquent 

That  men  and  principles  may  safely  cope 

With  problems  each  evolve, — Democracy's  proud 
hope. 


16        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


X 

But  looking  backward  in  reflective  mood 

Across  the  centuries  that  intervene 
Since  Peter  Minuit,  the  trader,  stood 

With  Indians  near  the  site  of  Bowling  Green 

Negotiating  with  complacent  mien 
A  four-and-twenty  dollar  rum  outlay 

For  title  to  Manhattan's  sylvan  scene; 
How  changed  the  times  and  customs  since  that  day 
Or  since   the   stern   and   sturdy   Stuyvesant   held 
sway! 

XI 

To  understand  Manhattan  and  to  catch 

The  deeper  meaning  of  the  force  that  nerved 
Successive  generations  to  outmatch 

Foregoing  efforts, — as  with  wings  uncurved 
For  poise  or  perchment,   Progress   soars  un- 

swerved 
To  altitudes  of  grandeur  unconfined, 

From   various    vantage-points    should   be    ob- 
served 

The  crowning  civic  conquests  of  mankind 
That  flash  their  natural  pulsing  films  upon  the 
mind. 


THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN         17 


XII 

Viewed  from  the  harbor  on  a  summer's  day 
By  travelers  aboard  incoming  ships, 

The  scene  evokes  emotions  into  play, 
Starts  admiration  leaping  to  the  lips 
And  pleasure  tingling  to  the  finger-tips; 

Oh !  how  the  native  bosom  swells  with  pride, 
No  seaport  spectacle  can  this  eclipse, 

Nerve-center  of  a  nation  at  flood-tide 

With  Liberty's  enlightening  torch  aloft  to  guide. 

XIII 

Seen  from  the  summit  of  the  tallest  tower, 
Almost  a  thousand  feet  above  the  street, 

The  great  metropolis  reveals  its  power 
In  magnitude  and  majesty  complete, 
And  distant  objects  seem  beneath  the  feet; 

Vision  extends  for  forty  miles  around, 
Scan  the  horizon's  circle,  what  a  treat? 

Look  inland  classic  Princeton  is  found, 

Eastward,  thro'  ocean  mists  speed  steamers  home- 
ward bound. 


18        THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN 


XIV 

Off  Sandy  Hook  the  Atlantic's  crest  of  blue 

Dim-outlined  dwindles  to  a  shore-line  gray, 
Dwarfed  in  the  focus  of  a  bird's  eye  view, 

The  Narrows,  Ambrose  Channel  and  the  bay, 

Unfold  a  mighty  maritime  array, 
Where  flags  of  every  nation  flout  the  gale, 

Big  bristling  battleships  at  anchor  lay, 
While  fleets  of  ferryboats  jammed  to  the  rail 
Flit  to  and  fro  'mid  countless  craft  that  steam  or 
sail. 


XV 

There  stands  upon  the  harbor-front  seawall 

An  ancient  fort  that  bears  the  Aquarium's  name, 

Perhaps  the  most  historic  spot  of  all 

The  noted  many  that  this  isle  can  claim, 
As  Castle  Garden  it  acquired  its  fame, 

For  dating  back  to  eighteen-fifty-five 

Eight  million  aliens  through  its  portals  came 

To  labor,  learn  to  assimilate  and  strive 

To  help  this  great  Republic  prosper  and  survive. 


THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN         19 


XVI 

These  migrant  millions  lured  from  various  climes 
And  meeting,  mingling,  intermarrying  here, 

Left  deep  and  forceful  impress  on  the  times 
Since  then  till  now,  and  many  a  future  year 
Their  progeny  as  leaders  will  appear 

To  lift  Advancement's  banner  for  this  realm, 
Equipped  to  serve  in  any  rank  or  sphere ; 

No  tempest  shall  the  ship  of  state  o'erwhelm 

When  pilots,  sons  of  pioneers,  are  at  the  helm. 

XVII 

Old  former  Castle  Garden!  landmark  set 

With  memories  that  a  century  invest; 
Here  on  his  farewell  visit  Lafayette 

Was  welcomed  as  the  nation's  honored  guest; 

Here  landed  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  in  quest 
Of  youth's  diversions ;  here  Inventor  Morse 

Scored  triumph  in  his  telegraphic  test; 
Here  Barnum's  fame  as  showman  had  its  source, 
And  hither  Kossuth  steered  from  Hungary  his 
course. 


20        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


XVIII 

Thronging  the  island's  center,  north  and  south, 
Throughout    Manhattan's    length    of    thirtee 

miles, 
From  Battery  Park  which  flanks  the  Hudson' 

mouth 
To  where  the  broad  Van  Courtlandt  meadoi 

smiles, 
Runs   Broadway,   famed   for   spenders,   show 

and  styles, 
Magnetic  and  mirage-like,  masking  care, 

While  underneath  the  glamour,  froth  and  wile; 
Flow  channelled  depths  that  human  currents  wea 
Which  vitalize  the  world's  most  vaunted  thorougl 
fare. 

XIX 

The  modern  network  of  Industrialism 
Evolves  a  mode  of  living  keen  and  tense, 

Keyed  by  a  highly-complex  mechanism 
That  interlocks  for  Capital's  defence, 
Curtailing  incomes,  adding  to  expense 

Of  toiling  masses  who  for  living  wage 

Serve  sinews  to  famed  fortunes  so  immense, 

Their  philanthropic  owners  must  engage 

Endowment  experts  to  divert  them  in  old  age. 


THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN        21 


XX 

There's  something  nobler,  infinitely  higher, 

In  passing  through  the  solemn  vale  of  life 
Than  mere  unchecked  ambition  to  acquire 

Pelf  with  its  paltry  pastime,  sordid  strife ; 

Where  greed  for  gold  is  rampant,  graft  is  rife; 
Better  an  honest  heart,  a  cultured  taste, 

A  love  of  home,  of  offspring  and  of  wife, 
With  income  that  inhibits  want  or  waste 
Than  all  the  wiles  on  which  plutocracy  is  based. 

XXI 

The  people's  peerless  playground,  Central  Park, 

Whose  charms  appeal  to  every  age  and  class, 
Has  not  escaped  the  grim  despoiler's  mark; 

The  Arsenal  is  closed,  and  gone,  alas! 

The  sportsman's  tavern  at  McGowan's  Pass, 
The  Belvedere  obtrudes  its  ruined  heap, 

The  old  stone  fort  is  overgrown  with  grass; 
But  fading  landmarks  frowning  in  dull  sleep 
O'er  livelier  landscape  scenes  forwarning  vigils 
keep. 


22        THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN 


XXII 

From  teeming  Eastside  tenements  that  group 
Their  human  herds  like  cattle  in  a  stall, 

On  holidays  pic-nicking  parents  troop 
With  romping  children  to  the  water-fall 
Or  harken  to  the  music  on  the  Mall, 

Eluding  for  the  nonce  their  chief  concern, — 
The  economic  fetters  that  enthrall, — 

To  draw  direct  from  nature's  healthful  urn 

The  balm  of  rural  life  for  which  their  spirits 
yearn. 


XXIII 

Midway  in  Central  Park  where  echoes  sound 
Faint  murmurs  of  the  turmoil  life  demands 

For  sustenance,  erected  on  a  mound 

With  cryptic  message  carved  by  ancient  hands, 
An  obelisk  that  rose  above  the  sands 

Of  Egypt  ere  the  Christian  era's  start 
Was  chronicled,  in  lordliness  now  stands 

Like  some  mysterious  sentinel  apart 

Behind  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 


THE   MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN        23 


XXIV 

Stern  symbol  of  endurance !     Mystics  preach 
In  vain  thy  sermon  but  cannot  obscure 

Thy  purpose,  for  thy  presence  serves  to  teach 
That  Art,  like  Time,  is  destined  to  endure: 
Ere  Culture's  dawn  thou  wert  Art's  overture 

And  all  the  aesthetic  harmonies  combined 
That  stately  sumptuous  sanctuaries  insure 

With  treasured  trophies  of  each  master-mind 

Are  Civilization's  grandest  gifts  to  all  mankind. 

XXV 

What  is  the  secret  of  the  power  that  gives 

A  faculty  to  fame  that  fascinates 
In  cherished  classic  which  through  ages  lives? 

'Tis  toil  that  tills  the  talent  that  creates 

While  sloth  in  vain  on  inspiration  waits, 
And  Genius,  so  distinctive  and  oft  fraught 

With  tastes  aesthetic  and  eccentric  traits, — 
So  loathed  by  mediocrity, — is  naught 
But  mental  vision's  range  expanded  by  trained 
thought. 


24        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


XXVI 

The  ancient  Greeks  who  gave  to  law  a  status 

And  lauded  justice  in  their  classic  odes 
Revered  a  fabled  hero,  Fortunatus, 

Whose   smiles  were  more   engaging   than  the 
codes 

That  Solon  taught  in  forum-famed  abodes: 
But  in  Manhattan  luck's  an  unchased  bubble, 

And  law  seems  distant  as  the  antipodes 
From  honor,  while  the  art  of  dealing-double 
Is  substituted  for  success  in  masking  trouble. 


XXVII 

There  are  some  natures  crude,  conceited,  coarse, 
With  instincts  of  the  wolf  and  fox  endowed, 

That  elbow  and  hobnail  their  way  by  force 
To  places  in  the  forefront  of  the  crowd, 
Preempting  posts  beyond  their  fitness,  proud 

To  meet  all  public  protests  with  a  sneer 

Or  hold  the  mob  in  mood  resentful  cowed; 

Thus  roved  and  ruled  the  old-time  buccaneer 

Whose  modern  chrysalis  yields  a  gouging  profiteer. 


THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN        25 


XXVIII 

Symptoms  of  blight, — the  problem  paramount, — 
Defenders  of  Democracy  must  face, 

Lurk  in  the  heedless  tendency  to  count 

Position,  power,  preferment,  public  place, 
Attained  by  standards  false  and  methods  base, 

As  laudable :  Why  is  this  noxious  scourge, 

Which  goads  the  conscience  of  the  human  race, 

Licensed  to  flout  all  moral  codes  and  urge 

What  Justice,  blinded,  gropes  in  vain  to  probe  and 
purge  ? 

XXIX 

Unless  the  civic  conscience  be  aroused 

To  worthier  impulse  than  material  gain, 
The  cause  our  patriot  forefathers  espoused 

For  freedom  and  equality  will  wane ; 

As  long  as  special  privilege  is  the  bane 
Of  social  justice,  laws  will  lure  mischance, 

While  honest  worth  with  intrigue  vies  in  vain; 
Not  Force,  but  Faith  in  ideals,  must  advance 
To  breast  the  bulwarks  reared  by  brigands  of 
finance. 


26        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


XXX 

Motoring  in  modish  juggernaut  array, 

The  gilded  god  of  chance  through  Wall  street 

drives 

To  haunts  where  hordes  of  human  birds  of  prey 
Revel  in  riches  reaped  on  ruined  lives; 
In  money's  maddening  maelstrom  Conscience 

strives 
To  merge  what  moral  precepts  have  instilled, 

But  Verity,  not  Vanity,  survives, 
And  soon  would  earth  with  famine's  phantoms 

filled 
To  primal  types  revert  unless  the  soil  be  tilled. 

XXXI 

For  in  the  elemental  warp  that  yields 
Forces  that  forge  the  militant  right  arm 

And  moral  fibre  Civilization  wields 

To  compass  life  with  cheerfulness  and  charm, 
The  font  and  firm  foundation  is  the  farm; 

Ancient  and  stable  as  the  human  race 

Is  Agriculture,  and  though  myriads  swarm 

Manhattan's  marts  in  Mammon's  ceaseless  chase 

Their  providence  is  meted  by  the  ploughman's 
pace. 


THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN        27 


XXXII 

Out  of  stupendous  strife  there  often  dawns 

This  sober  thought  which  chastened  mood  pre- 
sents : 
Mortals,  however  masterful,  are  pawns 

Upon  the  changing  chessboard  of  events; 

The  courtly  sculptor,  Vanity,  cements 
Heroic  names  upon  the  scroll  of  Time, 

But  Fame  is  seldom  cradled  by  intents, 
And  often  those  discouraged  in  their  prime 
Have  soared  through  opportune  events  to  heights 
sublime. 

XXXIII 

Goddess  that  guards  the  temple  reared  to  sports 

With  bow  and  arrow  ready  for  the  chase, 
Dashing  Diana,  naked-limbed,  cavorts 

Atop  a  tower  of  architectural  grace; 

Old  Madison  Square  Garden  is  the  place 
To  witness  games,  Olympic-like,  that  still 

Attract  all  classes  of  the  populace 
Who  mingle  and  acclaim  with  shouts  that  thrill 
Triumphant  victors  in  the  feats  of  strength  and 
skill. 


28        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


XXXIV 

Where  styles  of  modern  architecture  share 

With  quaint  colonial  types  the  passing  view 
Keen  is  the  human  instinct  to  compare 

Details  of  difference  in  the  old  and  new; 

The  Jumel  Mansion,  foremost  of  the  few. 
Preserved  ancestrial  homesteads,  still  abounds 

In  interest  as  the  patriots'  rendezvous, 
While  'neath  its  rocky  perch  tumultuous  sounds 
Oft  echo  from  the  stadium  of  the  Polo  Grounds. 


XXXV 

Within  the  shadow  cast  by  Coogan's  bluff 
The  captivating  contest  of  baseball 

Elicits  roars  in  volume  vast  enough 
The  muttering  of  Niagara  to  recall 
On  rainless  afternoons  from  Spring  till  Fall, 

When  hosts  hilarious  gather  to  exhort 
The  keenest,  cleanest  pastime  of  them  all, 

As  rival  teams  to  strategy  resort 

In  matching  speed  and  skill, — the  Spartan  test  oi 
sport. 


THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN        29 


XXXVI 

Presumptuous  youth  would  fain  adventure  far 
Through  ultra-urban  life  without  a  hitch, 

But  like  the  unskilled  pilot  of  a  car, 

The  simple  thoughtless  turning  of  a  switch 
May  shift  him  from  the  highway  to  the  ditch; 

Conceit  has  cankered  many  a  proud  career 
That  might  have  earned  admission  to  a  niche 

In  halls  of  fame,  if  temperament's  high-gear 

Had  been  inured  from  early  youth  to  wisdom's 
steer. 

XXXVII 

Turf,  set  apart  by  nature's  grace  to  yield 
Relief  or  respite  from  dull  routine  cares, 

May  once  have  been  a  public  Potter's  Field, 
Like  Bryant  Park  whose  origin  compares 
With  those  of  Madison  or  Union  squares; 

Each  in  its  turn  received  the  pauper  dead, 

Each  groomed  its  lawns,   its   shade-trees   and 
parterres 

O'er    humblest    graves    as    progress    northward 
spread, 

And  now  they  harbor  human  helplessness  instead. 


30        THE    MIGHT   OF    MANHATTAN 


XXXVIII 

Ye  who,  misled  by  demagogue's  design 

Or  fired  by  proletarian's  frenzied  plea, 
Have  faith  in  cults  that  seek  to  undermine 

The  spirit  that  upholds  democracy; 

Ye  who  regard  republics  as  the  free 
Exploiting  grounds  for  foreigners  to  plant 

Seditious  seed;  ye  who  claim  liberty 
Neglects  her  heroes  cast  in  adamant, 

That  noble  deeds  inspire,  approach  the  Tomb 
of  Grant. 

XXXIX 

High  o'er  the  Hudson  where  the  steep  incline 
Of  parked  embankment  fronts  a  terraced  drive, 

Stroll  leisurely  like  pilgrim  to  his  shrine 
And  feel  the  patriotic  pulse  revive, — 
The  embered  zeal  of  manhood  flame  alive, — 

As  through  embowering  vistas  the  first  peep 
Of  that  huge  semblance  of  a  granite  hive 

Delights  the  eye  with  its  impressive  heap 

Where  rests  the  warrior  with  his  spouse  in  hal- 
lowed sleep. 


THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN        31 


XL 

Protagonist  of  military  might! 

Whose  statue  with  the  flight  of  time  expands, 
Firm  as  the  rock  and  lofty  as  the  site 

Whereon  thy  mammoth  mausoleum  stands; 

The  Union  cause  triumphant  in  thy  hands 
Immortalized  thee,  but  that  mute  appeal, 

Voiced  from  the  tomb,  e'en  greater  praise  com- 
mands, 

For  those  calm  words  "Let  us  Have  Peace"  reveal 
Thy  power  to  smite  was  tempered  with  the  hope  to 
heal. 


XLI 

Observe  the  gorge-like  prospect  from  this  tomb 

The  Hudson  shapes  till  dim  perspective  fades 
To  northward  where  the  shores  of  Jersey  loom 

With  uniform  abruptness  which  pervades 

The  panorama  of  the  Palisades, 
Grouping  in  picturesque  and  pristine  grace 

Across  from  sylvan  Inwood's  sloping  glades 
In  uppermost  Manhattan,  every  trace 
Of  rugged  nature's  charm  which  man  should  not 
deface. 


XLII 

How  trim  the  water-tower  peaked  on  a  ridge 
The  eastern  Heights  of  Washington  disclose ! 

And  'neath  the  granite  arches  of  High  Bridge 
How  placidly  the  Harlem  river  flows 
'Mid  scenes  of  semi-pastoral  repose! 

Across  the  stream  the  Bronx,  suburban  tame, 
Despite  the  inroads  trade's  aggression  sows, 

Exalts  from  classic  heights  life's  lofty  aim 

In  dome  and  colonnade  that  mark  the  Hall  of 
Fame. 


XLIII 

Is  Freedom's  dawn  forgotten?    Look  around 

In  quest  of  civic  tendency  or  aim, 
Objects  and  scenes  on  every  side  abound 

That  bear  the  Father  of  our  country's  name, 

Communal  tributes  to  enduring  fame, 
More  potent  than  the  pomp  the  proud  affect, 

True  worth  unfurls  no  tinselled  oriflame; 
For  chivalry  of  character  can  elect 
To  vest  the  commonplace  with  title  to  respect. 


THE   MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN        33 


XLIV 

How  oft  the  noble  name  of  Washington 
Pervades  Manhattan's  unromantic  air! 

An  arch  with  sage  monition  carved  thereon, 
Facing  an  entrance  to  a  public  square, 
A  statue  in  the  heart  of  Wall  street's  lair, 

A  mart,  a  fort,  a  bridge,  a  rocky  height, 
An  ancient  and  a  modern  thoroughfare, 

Are  notable  memorials  to  the  might 

Of  him  who  shaped  and  launched  our  ship  of  state 
aright. 


XLV 

Go,  guard  the  gates  of  government  and  guide 
The  drifting  herds  from  Europe  off  the  shoal 

Where  breaks  the  surging  socialistic  tide 

Which  frets  and  froths  to  leap  beyond  control  j 
No  fatuous  foreign  beacon  lights  the  goal 

Or  charts  the  course  democracy  declares, 

And,  lest  the  watchful  wraith  of  serfdom's  soul 

Through  rifts  unwardened  creep  in  unawares, 

Uproot  ecclesiasticism  from  state  affairs. 


34        THE    MIGHT   OF   MANHATTAN 


XLVI 

Speed  on,  Manhattan,  while  the  virile  lust 
And  vibrant  lure  of  youth  sustain  thy  force ! 

The  dregs  of  empires  filtered  through  the  dust 
Of  ages  long  elapsed,  still  meet  and  course 
Through  thy  brisk  veins  incognizant  of  source : 

Rejuvenate  the  remnants  merged  in  one 

And  fused  at  Freedom's  forge  beyond  divorce, 

As  Babel's  leaven  moulded  Babylon, 

Mint  thou  thy  might  from  every  race  beneath 
the  sun. 


THE   CALL   OF   THE   COUNTRY        35 


THE  CALL  OF  THE  COUNTRY 

HERE  are  times  when  a  sense  of  satiety  palls 
And  the  glamour  of  city  life  no  longer 

thralls, 
Then  the  spirit  of  man  seeks  the  woodlands  and 

fields 
For  the  comforting  calm  that  the   countryside 

yields. 
For  the  woes  that  depress  and  the  wrongs  that 

aggrieve 

The  freedom  of  forest  and  farm  can  relieve, 
And  the  ills  of  illusion,  engendered  by  care, 
Dissolve  like  the  mists  in  the  fresh  mountain  air. 

The  slave  to  convention  whose  passion  for  wealth 
Is  rewarded  by  premature  age  and  ill-health 
Finds  something  akin  to  revival  of  youth 
In  rustic  environment,  however  uncouth. 

A  springtide  aroma  of  fresh-furrowed  turf, 
A  mid-summer  breath  of  the  rough-rolling  surf, 
A  landscape  which  autumn  in  pigments  portrays, — 
These  are  worth  all  the  joys  of  a  dozen  Broad- 
ways. 


36        THE    CALL   OF   THE    COUNTRY 


The  lonesomest  lives  may  be  compassed  by  mirth 
In  the  busiest  streets  that  enliven  the  earth, 
Where  the  heart  of  the  city's  cross-currents  com- 
pound 
With  a  bedlam  of  bustle  and  babel  of  sound. 

Afloat  for  a  lifetime  are  mortals  that  sweep 
O'er  the  boundless  expanse  of  the  billowy  deep, 
While  dotting  earth's  wild  wastes  with  cottage  or 

camp 
Are  primitive  souls  of  the  pioneer  stamp. 

Like  the  old  Texas  rancher  who  gruffly  avowed 
He  would  rather  move  off  than  be  cramped  by  a 

crowd 
And  who  felt  that  his  range  was  too  narrow  to 

roam 
When  settlers  located  ten  miles  from  his  home. 


KATY   EAST   AND    KATY   WEST        37 


KATY  EAST  AND  KATY  WEST 


^T^IME  has  wrought  so  many  changes 

In  the  life  I  used  to  know 
When  I  rode  the  cattle  ranges 

Down  in  Texas  years  ago 
That  there  scarce  remains  a  semblance 

Of  the  type  of  folks  I  knew, 
Only  just  a  faint  remembrance 

Of  a  fond  and  faithful  few, — 
One  of  whom  a  grim  old  fellow 

That  no  josh  or  joke  could  vex, 
Whose  complexion  coppered  mellow 

Showed  his  origin,  Tex-Mex, 
Seldom  spoke  above  a  mutter, 

Till  by  dint  of  duty  pressed, 
He  would  lift  his  tongue  and  utter: 

"Katy  East  and  Katy  West." 


38        KATY   EAST   AND    KATY   WEST 


II 

It  so  happened  down  in  Waco, 

Which  the  Katy  road  runs  through, 
That  a  lone  paved  street  would  echo 

With  a  merry  motley  crew 
Of  quaint  cattlemen  and  tourists, 

Bound  for  points  along  the  line, — 
Even  constables  and  jurists 

Seldom  missed  a  treat  so  fine, — 
When  two  roaring  trains  would  smother 

Every  voice  with  deafening  power 
As  they  paused  to  pass  each  other 

Round  about  the  noon-day  hour; 
It  was  just  before  their  coming 

That  our  hero  yelled  with  zest 
In  a  tone  that  set  hearts  humming: 

"Katy  East  and  Katy  West." 

Ill 

Though  his  nose  was  hooked  like  Caesar's, 
He  had  not  the  Roman's  brains, 

For  his  youth  was  spent  with  greasers 
Herding  cattle  on  the  plains, 

Still  he  tossed  a  skillful  lasso, 
As  he  drifted  back  and  forth 


KATY   EAST   AND   KATY   WEST        39 


With  cow-punchers  from  El  Paso 

And  the  stockyards  at  Fort  Worth, 
Till  with  age  his  speed  was  slacking, 

Then  without  much  fret  or  fuss, 
He  just  settled  down  to  hacking 

With  two  ponies  and  a  bus 
As  a  mode  of  transportation, 

But  the  part  he  played  the  best 
Was  to  shout  this  information: 

"Katy  East  and  Katy  West." 

IV 

Most  of  Waco's  nabobs  nobby 

Were  the  gamblers  that  would  stroll 
Proud  as  peacocks  through  the  lobby 

Of  the  Hotel  Metropole; 
Rough  and  raw-boned  ranchers  mingled, 

Always  keen  to  take  a  chance, 
While  their  bell-spurs  clinked  and  jingled 

Mimic  echoes  of  the  dance; 
But  the  bar-room's  roar  and  rattle 

Caught  the  cowboy's  fancy  first, 
Romping,  milling  like  their  cattle 

In  attempts  to  slack  their  thirst; 
Yet  a  sudden  lull  oft  sundered 

All  the  mirth  that  effervesced 


40        KATY   EAST  AND    KATY   WEST 


When  the  old  bus-driver  thundered: 
"Katy  East  and  Katy  West." 


Oft  I  marked  his  noon-day  entry, 

From  the  hotel  dining-room, 
Saw  him  stalk  in  like  a  sentry, 

Bold  enough  to  challenge  doom, 
With  his  broad  sombrero  flopping 

From  a  tether  held  in  check 
And  a  loose  bandana  dropping 

In  a  loop  around  his  neck; 
Girt  and  geared  with  all  the  trappings 

Of  a  prairie  pioneer, 
Whip  in  hand  with  thonged  enwrappings, 

Straight  ahead  his  course  would  steer, 
Pound  the  floor  with  ponderous  brogan, 

Hustling  every  dining  guest, 
With  his  timely,  trusty  slogan: 

"Katy  East  and  Katy  West." 

VI 

From  amongst  the  fearless  figures 
That  I  loped  with  on  the  ranch, 

Some  were  quick  at  cards  and  triggers, 
Nearly  all  were  straight  and  stanch, 


IN    METARIE    CEMETERY  41 


But  the  firmest  fixed  survivor 

That  in  retrospect  remains 
Is  that  old  Waco  bus-driver 

And  the  way  he  called  the  trains; 
For  a  moral  we  can  summon 

From  his  long-remembered  yell 
Is  that  things  which  seem  uncommon 

Oft  are  common  things  done  well; 
And  this  thought  like  music  beating 

On  the  heart-strings  in  my  breast 
Keeps  my  memory  still  repeating: 

"Katy  East  and  Katy  West." 

IN  METARIE  CEMETERY 

THERE  is  in  New  Orleans  a  cemetery 
That  seems  the  handiwork  of  nymph  or 

fairy, 

Named  Metarie,  which  old  chronicles  report 
Was  once  a  race-course  where  unbridled  sport 
Held  carnival  until,  piqued  by  a  snub 
That  barred  his  entry  to  the  jockey  club, 
A  local  wag,  for  wealth  and  wit  renowned, 
Transformed  the  track  into  a  burying-ground ; 
And  with  a  sportsman's  sense  of  pride  and  pity 
Bequeathed  his  curious  conquest  to  the  city. 


42  IN    METARIE   CEMETERY 


This  act  so  pleased  the  public  that  the  donor 
Was  feted,  toasted  and  acclaimed  with  honor 
By  press  and  pulpit  as  the  people's  friend, 
Because  he  had  the  courage  to  defend 
The  principle  of  equal  human  rights, — 
That  law  of  natural  instinct  which  unites 
Men  in  true  fellowhood, — for  he  had  turned 
Into  grim  jest  the  boast  of  foes  that  spurned 
His  comradeship,  till  death  invoked  surrender; 
Then  Metarie  grouped  within  her  bosom  tender 
Both  friend  and  foe  around  her  old  defender, 
Whose  tomb  surpasseth  all  in  marbled  splendor. 


APPROACHING   HONOLULU  43 


APPROACHING  HONOLULU 

I 

SERENITY  sails  on  a  tropical  trip, 
Lazily  lolling  aboard  a  snug  ship, 
Which  ploughs  the  Pacific's  immutable  breast, 
Six  days  out  of  Golden  Gate  heading  southwest, 
When  a  shout  stirs  the  crew,  brisk  officers  pass, 
A  lookout  is  posted  aloft  with  a  glass, 
Keen  eyes  peer  ahead  with  expectant  delight, 
For  the  isles  of  Hawaii  will  soon  be  in  sight. 

II 

No  land  has  been  seen  since  a  group  of  gray  stones 
Just  outside  the  headlands, — the  bleached  Farra- 

lones, — 

Like  a  stray  shoal  of  sea-wolves  inclined  to  pursue, 
In  the  dusk  of  an  evening  receded  from  view, 
And  almost  a  week  has  elapsed,  still  the  calm 
Of  the  ambient  elements  basks  in  their  balm, 
While  only  the  depths  of  the  ocean  and  sky 
Envisage  their  vastness  to  soul  and  to  eye. 

Ill 

The  encircling  scope  and  the  murmuring  sound 
Of  the  sea  evoke  thoughts  and  emotions  profound 
In  minds  that  can  rise  o'er  the  sordid  and  base 
To  ponder  life's  purport  in  nature's  embrace; 


44  APPROACHING    HONOLULU 


Yet  oft  through  such  musings  a  magic-like  hand, 
Repeating  its  kerchiefed  farewell  from  the  land, 
Creeps  in,  with  a  lingering  longing  once  more 
To  set  a  firm  foot  on  a  welcoming  shore. 

IV 

There's  a  zest  in  the  shift  from  reflections  sedate 
To  the  tremor  which  hope's  expectations  create, 
When  all  that  is  sober  and  solemn  and  deep 
Veer  to  smiles  as  in  dreams  of  a  child  fast  asleep; 
There's  a  thrill  in  the  long  watchful  wait  to  divert 
The  tedium  and  tension  of  being  alert, 
And  just  as  the  quest  seems  enshrouded  in  doubt, 
"Land  ahead!  off  the  starboard  bow,"  shouts  the 
lookout. 


Far  out  where  the  blue  of  the  sky  seems  to  sleep 
On  the  crest  of  the  mingling  blue  of  the  deep, 
The  sunny  bright  isles  in  the  distant  waves  gleam 
Like  fragments  of  fancy  pervading  a  dream: 
Thus  oft  on  the  variable  voyage  through  life 
With  its  alternate  aspects  of  sunshine  and  strife, 
The  goals  that  persistence  and  patience  pursue 
Like  the  isles  of  Hawaii  at  last  loom  in  view. 


WAR'S    HARVEST 45 

i 
WAR'S  HARVEST 

I 

TO  HASTEN  the  ultimate  uplift  of  man, — 
This  was  the  heralded  purpose  and  plan 
When  war  of  the  Nations  in  Europe  began, 

But  now  that  the  conflict  is  ended, 
Have  all  the  lessons  the  grim  struggle  taught 
Lifted  a  burden  from  millions  who  fought, 
Brightened  a  hope  for  the  ideals  they  sought, 
Or  have  more  been  shattered  than  mended? 

II 

What  if  a  warlord  whose  swaggering  style 
Once  bluffed  the  world  with  a  frown  or  a  smile 
Now  tames  his  pulse  chopping  wood  in  exile! 

What  of  a  Czar's  immolation! 
Are  not  the  countries  these  proud  monarchs  ruled 
Drifting  to  chaos;  by  Bolshevists  schooled, 
Are  not  the  peoples  long  forced,  fleeced  and  fooled, 

Now  on  the  verge  of  starvation? 

Ill 

Here  in  a  plenteous  prosperous  land 
Prices  are  raised  by  a  profiteer  band, 


46  WAR'S    HARVEST 


Not  by  the  law  of  supply  and  demand, 

Plain  patient  folks  are  disgusted; 
Still  on  a  mistaken  course  we  proceed, 
Glutting  the  maws  of  insatiable  greed, 
Someday  the  victims  will  rise  and  stampede, 

Then  will  the  Trust-bunds  be  busted. 

IV 

Wherever  we  go  they  are  passing  the  hat 
With  a  drive  for  this  and  a  drive  for  that, 
As  legions  of  loiterers  loaf  and  grow  fat, — 

Their  insolence  fairly  staggers; 
Unless  the  contagion  of  this  gnawing  fault 
Is  checked  by  the  law  interposing  a  halt 
Which  forces  these  leeches  to  earn  their  own  salt, 

We'll  soon  be  a  nation  of  beggars. 


The  orgy  of  organized  greed  that  incites 
An  age  economic  to  curb  human  rights, 
Which  Labor  contends  for  and  Capital  fights, 

The  world  war  but  slightly  affected; 
With  wealth  glossing  evils  it  never  can  cure, 
With  the  rich  growing  richer  and  poorer  the  poor, 
How  long  can  the  might  of  a  nation  endure? 

How  long  will  its  laws  be  respected  ? 


MOB  47 


MOB 

NO  mightier  despot  ever  trod 
The  earth  or  ruled  with  sterner  rod 
Or  swayed  huge  hosts  with  subtler  nod 
Or  rode  through  ruin  rougher  shod 
Than  I, — part  beast,  part  demi-god. 

Horrors  that  make  humanity  tremble 
Stalk  in  my  wake  when  I  assemble 
The  imps  of  discord  and  unrest 
Which  lurk  in  every  outraged  breast, 
And  seem  to  mock  like  haunting  ghouls 
The  grief  and  gloom  of  shackled  souls, 
Or  sportive  turn  the  cog  which  grinds 
Envenomed  thoughts  in  envious  minds, 
Or  gleeful  dance  with  fiendish  zest 
On  hearts  by  want  and  woe  oppressed, 
Or  ruthless  rack  the  nerves  with  dread 
When  eyes  are  filmed  a  murderous  red 
From  ills  that  through  gaunt  bodies  spread, 
Long  overworked  and  underfed. 


48  MOB 


Terror  and  Thrill,  Tremor  and  Throb 
March  in  my  van  with  Shudder  and  Sob, 
Mine  is  a  tragic  Titan's  job, 
I  am  the  turbulent  Tyrant  Mob. 

My  coming  serves  to  set  in  motion 
A  frenzied  ferment  of  devotion 
To  every  cause  and  cult  and  notion 
Designed  by  knave  or  demagogue 
To  steep  the  public  mind  in  fog 
And  mire  all  Christendom  a-bog, 
Discarding  e'en  the  decalogue: 
It  is  indeed  unfortunate 
Impostors  so  importunate, 
Who  lack  the  power  and  skill  to  make 
The  fortunes  others  have  at  stake, 
Preach  violence  for  vengeance  sake, 
Can  fortify  their  tongues  and  nerves 
By  poaching  on  my  wild  preserves, 
Can  coyly  courtesan  with  fame 
By  spurious  trading  on  my  name. 

Unlike  my  servile  offspring,  Mars, 

I  am  not  throned  amid  the  stars, 

I  am  not  ranked  with  brave  hussars, 

Nor  pensioned  for  my  wounds  and  scars; 


MOB  49 


Nor  is  my  form  in  glory  clothed, 

My  fate  by  no  allegiance  oathed, 

I  am  a  demon  feared  and  loathed 

By  all, — an  outcast  behemothed: 

Yet  for  the  good  of  all  I  rise; 

The  foremost  attributes  I  prize 

Are  patience  born  of  sacrifice 

And  justice  shrieking  to  the  skies 

For  what  oppression  oft  denies 

In  human  rights  and  sympathies ; 

For  these  my  reign,  though  sharp  and  brief, 

Extends  a  rainbow  of  relief  , 

Across  a  horror-riven  reef 

Where  breaks  an  avalanche  of  grief, 

A  cataclysm  of  emotion 

Which  sweeps  mankind  like  storm-tossed  ocean. 

Ye,  who  are  wont  to  wreck  and  rob, 
Snugged  in  the  role  of  sleek  nabob, 
Who  snare  and  swindle  honest  folk, 
Who  jeer  at  justice  as  a  joke, 
Who  gloat  to  see  your  victims  broke 
Beneath  the  dull  industrial  yoke, 
While  orphans  wail  and  widows  sob, 
Beware  the  righteous  wrath  of  Mob. 


50  TRUE    EXPRESSION 


TRUE  EXPRESSION 

TV' NOW  YE  that  true  expression  lies 

Less  in  the  tongue  than  in  the  eyes, 
For  eloquent  as  may  appear 
The  fluent  lip,  a  smile  or  tear 
Can  quicken  joy,  can  banish  fear 
Or  make  the  pulse  with  pleasure  start 
Or  soothe  with  sympathy  the  heart, 
Eclipsing  Oratory's  art; 
For  Gladness  melts  what  Grief  absorbs 
Beneath  the  glance  of  smiling  orbs. 

These  mute  interpreters  of  Love 
Reflect  what  lips  can  seldom  breathe, 

As  stars  that  faintly  beam  above 
Are  glistened  in  the  wave  beneath. 


BY   THE   GRAVE   OF   POE  51 


BY  THE  GRAVE  OF  POE 

T)  ESIDE  Westminster's  stately  towers,* 

Where  reverent  footsteps  softly  tread, 
A  churchyard  lies,  uncheered  by  flowers, 
But  honored  by  th'  immortal  dead. 

I  visited  that  hallowed  spot 

In  autumn  many  years  ago, 
The  scene  will  never  be  forgot, 

Whose  gloom  was  like  impending  woe. 

'Twas  midnight  and  in  varying  tones 
The  belfries  tolled  the  dismal  hour, 

I  glanced  upon  sepulchral  stones 

And  seemed  to  feel  enchantment's  power. 

A  splendid  marble  shaft  arose 

Above  a  corner  of  the  lot 
Thro  shrubbery  which  lent  repose 

To  elegance  that  deckt  the  spot. 


*Poe  is  buried  in  Westminster  churchyard  in  the  heart  of  the  city  of 
Baltimore,   Md. 


52  BY   THE   GRAVE   OF   POE 


I  knelt  before  the  sepulchre 

Which  hides  th'  immortal  poet's  dust 
And  like  a  pilgrim-worshiper 

Paid  tribute  to  his  classic  bust. 

No  echoing  sounds  the  stillness  broke 
Save  from  above  the  sculptured  door 

Methought  I  heard  the  Raven  croak 
His  solitary  "Nevermore." 

The  gathering  gloom  gripped  like  a  trance, 
And  when  I  passed  the  iron  gate 

I  paused  but  dared  not  backward  glance 
As  if  pursued  by  fear  or  fate. 


THE    DREAM-SIREN  53 


THE  DREAM-SIREN 


IN  DREAMS  of  yesternight  I  stood 
Upon  the  ocean's  darkling  shore 
While  all  around  was  solitude 

Save  for  the  waves'  inconstant  roar. 

Before  me  rose  a  maiden  sad 

With  sapphire  eyes,  half-sheathed  in  sleep, 
A  white  transparent  texture  clad 

This  Amphitrite  of  the  deep. 

She  spake  in  stately  solemn  tone : 

"Mine  is  the  power  that  conquers  want; 

Speak  quickly  ere  the  night  is  flown, 
Whate'er  you  wish  for  I  shall  grant." 

One  moment  mute  enrapt  I  gazed 

Upon  her  half-averted  face, 
As  wild  caressing  billows  praised 

Her  statuesque  and  nymphal  grace. 


54  THE    DREAM-SIREN 


Her  long  loose-flowing  tresses  flung 
Their  golden  festoons  to  the  storm, 

When  harkening  to  my  suppliant  tongue 
That  gently  roused  her  slumbrous  form. 

"I  would  my  heart  were  like  the  wave 

That  bounds  exulting  o'er  the  sea, 

And  when  the  scowling  tempests  rave 

I  still  could  frolic  gay  and  free. 

"I  would  my  mind  were  like  the  lake 
That  mirrors  peace  at  eventide, 

Unruffled  by  the  winds  that  shake 
The  rustling  woodland  by  its  side. 


"I  would  my  soul  were  like  the  vault 
Of  boundless  heaven's  ethereal  blue, 

Untarnished  by  a  clouded  fault 
And  to  its  Source  unswerving  true. 

"I  would  my  love  were  like  the  rose 
That  blooms  in  unfrequented  fields, 

Where  only  the  wooing  zephyr  knows 
The  favorite  fragrance  that  it  yields. 


THE   DREAM-SIREN  55 


"I  would  the  wealth  of  all  the  earth 
Were  cast  returnless  to  the  wind, 

And  the  nobler  standard  of  true  worth 
Were  culture  of  the  heart  and  mind. 

"Yea  !  dearer  to  me  than  tempting  wealth 
Than  grandeur's  pomp  or  pleasure's  lure 

Is  long-robust,  unfailing  health, 

A  faithful  heart,  a  conscience  pure." 

I  paused.    The  mermaid's  lifted  arms, 
Commanding  while  they  captivate, 

Though  still  revealing  myriad  charms, 
Were  now  impotent, — 'twas  too  late. 

Her  shadowy  form  began  to  fade, 
Her  lips  seemed  motioning  to  reply; 

Methought  I  heard  the  sounds  they  made, 
But  'twas  the  ocean's  surging  sigh. 

A  startled  wakening  from  my  sleep 
Dissolved  the  phantom,  slumber-born, 

While  through  my  window  came  the  peep 
Of  twilight  ushering  in  the  morn. 


56          THE   MUSE   IN    MISFORTUNE 


THE  MUSE  IN  MISFORTUNE 

How  strange !  the  humblest  peasant  thrives, 
While  languish  gifted  men  of  song, 
And  seldom  calm,  Arcadian  lives 
Are  lotted  to  the  minstrel  throng. 

Betimes,  perchance,  oppressed  by  want, 
Their  harps  have  sounded  half-unstrung; 

Rebuke  not !  think  how  they  might  chant 
If  fortune  favored  what  was  sung. 

Their  lots  should  not,  howe'er  they  live, 
Provoke  a  prudish  look  or  laugh ; 

Their  hearts  when  song-enburdened  give 
What  other  hearts  will  phonograph. 

Unqualified  for  deeds  that  bring 
Success  within  commercial  marts, 

But  deeply  versed  in  arts  that  spring 
From  gifts  of  mind  and  depths  of  heart. 

Their  words  recording  saints  rehearse, 
Their  praise  a  cherub-choir  intones, 

Their  fame  survives  adorning  verse 
Incised  upon  memorial  stones. 


THE    REGULAR   SOLDIER  57 


THE  REGULAR  SOLDIER 

(These  verses  were  written  at  Manila,  P.  I.,  in  August,  1898, 
a  few  days  after  the  city  was  captured  from  the  Spanish 
by  the  American  forces,  at  which  time  the  writer  was  a 
member  of  the  Fourteenth  U.  S.  Infantry.) 

I 

A  NATION'S  heart  beats  high  and  fast, 
As  legions  leap  to  arms, 
Responsive  to  the  bugle  blast 

That  thrills  with  war's  alarms; 
From  Huron's  shores  to  Rio's  banks 

Advance  the  volunteers, 
But  foremost  in  the  forming  ranks 

Mute  regular  appears: 
One  moment's  lull,  one  quick  command, 
He  dashes  from  his  native  land, 
On  fields  of  conflict,  near  or  far, 
Behold  the  ready  regular. 

II 
Thro  swamp  or  brushwood,  stones  or  stub, 

He  marches  day  or  night, 
Half-rations  of  the  roughest  grub 

To  tease  his  appetite: 
'Most  any  time  he  may  be  killed 

In  some  outposting  fray, 
He  ne'er  complains, — he's  duty-drilled, 

And  knows  how  to  obey : 


58  THE    REGULAR   SOLDIER 


Of  exploits  on  the  field  or  post 
He  never  cares  to  prate  or  boast, 
His  tales  are  told  by  many  a  scar, 
This  stern  and  silent  regular. 

Ill 

A  blanket's  folded  in  his  pack, 

A  change  of  clothes  between, 
A  biscuit's  in  his  haversack, 

A  swig's  in  his  canteen, 
His  campaign  hat  is  tattered, 

His  leggings  loose  and  frayed 
His  uniform,  mud-spattered 

From  the  trenches  where  he  stayed 
All  night  before  Manila's  walls 
'Mid  showers  of  shells  and  Mauser  balls 
A  lesson  in  the  brunt  of  war 
Learn  from  the  rugged  regular. 

IV 

Fitted  for  any  realm  to  range, 

His  hardened  spirit  mettle 
No  circumstance  of  clime  can  change, 

No  rigors  can  unsettle : 
With  manners  blunt  and  features  burnt 

By  usage  rude  and  hard, 


THE    REGULAR    SOLDIER  59 


The  manly  pliant  traits  he's  learnt 

Are  discipline's  reward: 
His  aim  the  mark  has  seldom  missed, 
He's  just  as  handy  with  his  fist, 
For  he  can  wrestle,  fence  or  spar, 
This  agile  earnest  regular. 


How  senseless  to  contemn  and  lance 

With  taunts  he  can't  resent, 
Because  in  days  of  peace,  perchance, 

His  hours  are  idly  spent; 
Remember,  arms  ennoble  men 

To  cast  the  warrior's  stamp, 
Whose  guardian  is  obedience,  when 

In  garrison  or  camp : 
Blame  not  his  awkward  pen  or  speech, 
He's  skilled  in  what  the  tactics  teach, 
No  blunders  his  maneuvers  mar, 
This  manual-modeled  regular. 

VI 

Behold  him,  private  in  the  ranks, 

On  days  of  dress-parade, 
Whether  in  center  or  on  flanks 

Each  order  is  obeyed 


60  THE    LOWEST   RANK 


In  faultless  unison  as  when 

The  coursing  spheres  began; 
How  grand  to  see  a  thousand  men 

Move  like  a  single  man! 
There's  steady  cadence  in  his  pace 
And  serious  silence  in  his  face, 
His  polished  arms  glint  like  a  star, 
This  trained  and  trusty  regular. 

THE  LOWEST  RANK 

THE  LOWEST  rank  known  in  the  regular  army, 
Which  troopers  award  to  an  ease-seeking 
flunky, 
In  lingo  whose  marksmanship  always  could  charm 

me, 
Is  "Dog  robber  to  a  lance-corporal's  bunkie." 

A  recruit  in  the   ranks  of  the   faithful   though 

humble, 

The  bunkie's  much  more  than  a  snoring  side- 
sleeper; 
He's    a   pal    who    can    relish    camp   gossip    and 

grumble, 
Yet  muster  himself  without  counsel  or  keeper. 

A  grade  below  sergeant  and  just  above  private 
The  corporal  struts  with  an  air  self-concerned, 


FLEETING   THOUGHT  61 


While  the  "lance"  is  in  prospect  and  will  not  ar- 
rive at 

His    full-chevroned   bloom   till    a   warrant   is 
earned. 

The  dodging  dog-robber,  so  adept  to  pander, 
Who  thus  escapes  discipline's  rigid  pursuits, 

Is  menial-in-chief  to  the  company  commander, 
For  whom  he  runs  errands  and  shines  up  his 
boots. 

In  battle's  baptism,  where  even  the  nervous 

Are  spurred  by  revenge  to  be  steadfast  and 

spunky, 
Away  in  the  rear  still  nursing  soft  service, 

Loafs    "Dog    robber    to    a    lance-corporal's 
bunkie." 

FLEETING  THOUGHT 

I  GRASPED  my  pen  to  write  a  thought 
But,  like  a  flash,  it  fled; 
A  search  through  memory  but  brought 

Distraction  on  my  head: 
'Tis  thus  with  hopes  so  ardent  sought, 

At  length  before  us  spread, 
We  grasp — and  lo !  behold,  we've  caught 
Adversity  instead. 


62  VERNAL   MORN   AND    EVE 


VERNAL  MORN  AND  EVE 

BEHOLD!  with  sudden  burst  the  blush 
Of  morn  upon  the  Orient  skies, 
While  soon  from  out  th'  adjoining  bush 

Arise  euphonious  melodies; 
A  whisper  bids  the  spirit  "Hush" 

And  harken  to  the  feathered  choir, 
For  rival  linnet  and  the  thrush 

In  mingled  harmony  conspire, 
Wild-warbling  as  they  flit  among 

The   fragrant  hawthorn  bowers, 
And  neighboring  daisies,  lately  sprung, 

Are  bathed  in  dewy  showers: 
How  sweet  the  early  morning  hours 

When  Phoebus  lifts  his  dazzling  eye 
And  all  the  cheer  of  birds  and  flowers 

Awaken  more  than  ecstasy! 

But  when  the  ever-varying  dyes 

Of  orange,  saffron,  purple,  red 
Tinsel  the  clouds  of  evening's  skies, 

As  Phoebus  goes  to  bed; 
'Tis  then  arising  pale  and  clear 

Above  the  depths  of  azured  East, 
Fair  Cynthia  with  her  stars  appear 

Like  Hebe  at  the  feast. 


VALENTINE'S    DAY  63 


VALENTINE'S  DAY 

TO-DAY  is  Cupid's  busy  day, 
His  missive-bearing  darts 
Speed  pretty  tokens  far  away 
To  gladden  loving  hearts. 

And,  sweetheart,  though  this  gift  of  mine 
May  greet  thee  with  surprise, 

Methinks  no  dainty  Valentine 
So  welcome  to  thine  eyes. 

The  image  of  myself  I  send 
In  fond  exchange  for  thine, 

Long  be  this  tribute  of  a  friend 
A  treasured  Valentine. 

Perhaps  it  will  in  after  years 

Some  happy  hours  beguile, 
And  should  deep  sorrow  threaten  tears 

Perhaps  'twill  win  a  smile. 

Though  hope  may  fade  and  love  depart 

By  cruel  fate's  design, 
Still  keep  my  image  in  thy  heart, 

For  there  I'll  cherish  thine. 


64  TO   A   YOUNG   LADY 


LINES  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY 

(In  answer  to  the  complaint  of  a  rival  suitor  who  found  fault 
with  her  favorite  lover  because  he  had  unconsciously 
worn  a  hole  in  the  seat  of  his  trousers.) 

YOUR  pretty  face  may  wear  a  smile 
When  next  your  sly  inspecting  glance 
Averts  its  love-looks  for  a  while 
To  search  the  seat  of  my  old  pants. 

For  my  landlady,  gentle  soul, 

With  modest  eyes  and  blushing  face, 

Has  patched  the  unadorning  hole 

That  peeped  from  such  an  awkward  place. 

I  care  not  for  the  prim  attire 

Of  which  the  gilded  coxcomb  brags, 

Most  men  of  greatness  we  admire 

Were  sometimes  robed  in  pauper  rags. 

Then  think  not  I  am  less  a  man 

Because  my  clothes  should  wear  or  soil; 

That  fray  which  some  were  loth  to  scan 
Was  wrought  by  arduous  honest  toil. 

A  tattered  cover  oft  encloses 

The  priceless  contents  of  a  volume, 

While  verdant  ivies  and  sweet  roses 
Conceal  the  crumbling  antique  column. 


IN   LIFE'S   AUTUMN  65 


IN  LIFE'S  AUTUMN 

THE    RICH    rosy    fruit   ripening   luscious    and 
mellow, 
Which   stirred   by   the    breezes    half-hiddenly 

swing 
Through  the   foliage   brown  crimson-tinted  and 

yellow, 

Were  once  the  sweet  blossoms  that  bloomed  in 
the  Spring. 

'Tis  the  Autumn  of  life  which  reveals  in  our  faces 
Whether  sorrow  or  joy  has  implanted  the  most, 

Then  sadly  we  peer  in  the  mirror  for  traces 
Of  beauties  which  youth  could  so   blushingly 
boast. 


LONELINESS 

DOWN  Edgecombe  road  this  early  morn 
As  leisurely  I  chanced  to  walk, 
I  spy  a  rose  without  a  thorn, 

Full-blown  upon  a  leafless  stalk; 
All  solitary  it  grows — , 

No  infant  buds  its  splendors  share, 
No  envious  friends  or  rival  foes, 
Alone  it  scents  the  morning  air. 


66  THE    LIBERTINE'S    LAMENT 


Its  every  petal  drips  of  dew, 

Like  tear-drops  set  in  Beauty's  eyes, 
Harmonious  to  its  richer  hues 

Of  deep  and  dark  vermillion  dyes, 
Like  some  fair  love-lorn  maid  who  seeks 

A  heart  responsive  to  her  own, 
With  suffused  eyes  and  tear-stained  cheeks, 

She  pines  in  solitude  alone. 


THE  LIBERTINE'S  LAMENT 

THE  sunshine  of  my  life  is  o'er, 
Each  hour  descends  a  darker  shade, 
My  heart  once  buoyant  to  the  core, 
Now  feels  its  failing  vigor  fade. 

My  ebbing  pulse  is  slow  and  tame, 
While  care  has  wrinkled  o'er  my  brow, 

And  what  was  former  fire  and  flame 
Is  smoke  and  smouldering  ashes  now. 

What  fiery  passions  unsubdued, 
What  page  of  folly's  fruitless  lore, 

What  path  of  pleasure  unpursued 
Is  left  for  me  to  linger  o'er ! 


TWO    PRAYERS  67 


TWO  PRAYERS 

I 

TMBUED  with  that  emotion  felt 
•^   Which  links  devotion  to  desires 

When  humans  turn  to  Heaven  for  aid, 
A  soldier  and  a  slacker  knelt 
Before  the  altar  of  their  sires, 

And  this  is  how  the  slacker  prayed: 

II 

"Spare  me  to  help  preserve  and  rear 
A  cultured  type  of  humankind 

To  better  serve  and  praise  Thee,  Lord  I 
Assign  me,  therefore,  to  some  sphere 
Of  civic  welfare  far  behind 

The  carnage  wrought  by  shell  and  sword!1 


68  TWO    PRAYERS 


III 

With  soul  to  selfish  hopes  averse, 
Where  honor's  aim  stood  uppermost, 

The  warrior  made  no  meek  appeal, 
But  drilled  to  speak  in  language  terse, 
And  flavored  like  his  favorite  toast, 
This  triple  pledge  renewed  with  zeal; 

IV 

"Three  solemn  vows  are  here  rehearsed 
Which  flinching  under  no  pretext 

I'll  keep  where'er  I  roam; 
My  homage  to  my  God  is  first, 
My  service  to  my  country  next, 
And  last  my  duty  to  my  home." 


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